I was a dead wood
drifting along the spooky path
of maze and intrigues,
the scary foam of waves surge
a whirl of surreal in me,
tossing me up and down,
the mariner’s compass,
holds a dumb charade
at the moment of travesty,
Your Advent is The
Enlightenment of Beacon.
Halo glows ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
From aimless drifting, you are given direction and destination! Enjoyed this write and welcome to poem hunter! !